


Guardian Ad Litem

by Elexica



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: But also, Courtroom scenes, Eventual Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Kaiba Seto, Harm to Children, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Justice for Children, Kaiba Seto Being Kaiba Seto, Kaiba Seto Being an Asshole, Kaiba Seto Has Issues, Kinda, Lawyers, Legal Drama, M/M, Slow Burn, actual angel joey wheeler, court ordered public service, joey is a social worker, kaiba is a lawyer, they fall in love, which means
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24832006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elexica/pseuds/Elexica
Summary: Seto Kaiba, the top technology acquisitions attorney in Domino City and chair of Kaiba & Kaiba LLC, gets into a bar fight with rival lawyer Zigfried von Schroeder and gets sentenced to 200 hours of community service in lieu of losing his license and/or going to jail.Mokuba decides that his brother ought to do the pro bono work as a Guardian ad Litem, a position where he is charged with representing  orphaned kids as a legal advocate.And Mokuba sets him up with scruffy open-hearted social worker Joey Wheeler as his supervisor.And they fall in love.
Relationships: Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Kaiba Seto
Comments: 37
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

Since they’d first met when they were kids, Kaiba had longed to hear the sound of his fist meeting Zigfried’s nose at high velocity. 

The answer was “CRONCH!” and his only wish, sitting in the back of the cop car on the way to the drunk tank, was that he had been more sober so that he could fully appreciate it.

Zigfried had it coming, for years now, Kaiba thought, and he’d explain that to anyone who would listen, even the judge. The man had never been much more than a menacing acquaintance, and even though they were at one of the fanciest bars in Domino city, Zigfried was still running his mouth.

However, at his arraignment the next day, Kaiba’s hangover drained him of his gumption. That, and Judge Atem Motou was shockingly stern. Just like it had been in high school. 

Kaiba sat there, in the Domino County Criminal Courtroom, for the first time in his life in the Defendant’s chair, and he had been advised by his lawyer not to say anything.

“My client should be released on his own recognizance, your honor. Obviously he has ties to the community, as one of the managing partners of Kaiba & Kaiba LLC as well as Chairman of the board,” Mokuba said, adjusting his blue tie.

“Does he have any family around here?” Judge Motou asked, somewhat rhetorically. This entire exercise was one of procedure—Atem Motou and his twin brother Yugi had been in high school with Seto Kaiba and knew of his brother. Seto and Atem had been rivals for top grades in school, and had a mutual respect, if not necessarily an understanding. Judge Motou’s tricolored hair formed five stiff peaks that overshadowed the meter-in-diameter brass Seal of Domino County and made him an even more imposing presence. Their shared history—Atem being the last man to defeat Kaiba in the legal profession—alone would have been almost enough to make Seto cower. Almost.

“Yes, your honor. Namely, me, his brother and the other named partner of Kaiba & Kaiba. I can promise you that he is not a danger to the community.” Mokuba responded, suppressing a smile.

Judge Motou flipped through the paper file before him. “He doesn’t have anything else on his rap sheet.”

“That is correct, your honor.”

“And how does he plead?” 

Mokuba nodded to Seto, who was still wearing a rather thrashed black suit with a light blue oxford that was missing it’s top button and no tie. Seto stood to address the court, “Guilty.”

“And you’d like to enter this plea without a deal?”

Mokuba nodded, “my client is at the mercy of the court. This is a serious incident, but hardly representative of a pattern of behavior or an ongoing threat to society. Do you have a copy of the police report?”

“Yes.” Judge Motou turned his purple eyes to skim the document.

“Then you will note that this was a mutual encounter according to the officers on the scene. Inappropriate and dangerous, but by no means unprovoked. As you know, the alleged victim is a named partner at the rival firm of Von Schroeder, LLP, and a longtime acquaintance. Related civil claims have already been settled.”

Judge Motou nodded. “Still,” the Judge began, “Mr. Kaiba is an officer of the court as an attorney, and such behavior is unbecoming of someone in such a position. I’d like to call your client to the witness stand.”

Mokuba nodded in return. “He does not waive his fifth amendment rights.”

Seto rose slowly, his head killing him and eyes squinting in the harsh fluorescent lights of the courtroom. His he settled into the polished oak witness box, and raised his right hand.

“Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you god?” The bailiff, a tall brunet with a big spike of hair asked.

“I do.” Seto responded and dropped his hand.

The court reporter whispered over to Mokuba, “He needs to spell his name!”

Mokuba agreed, “of course, Ms. Gardner. Mr. Kaiba, could you please spell your first and last name for the court?”

“First, S-E-T-O and last, K-A-I-B-A.” Seto answered, trying to sound dignified rather than defeated.

“Thank you.”

Judge Motou leaned into the microphone on his bench. “Mr. Kaiba, is it true that you run one of Domino City’s most lucrative legal practices?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“What kind of law do you practice?”

“I specialize in Mergers and Acquisitions for high technology corporations.” Seto responded, his classic haughty tone creeping in at the very suggestion of his work.

“And how many years have you been practicing that sort of law?” Judge Motou asked.

“Four. I graduated from law school at 23.”

“Always an overachiever” Judge Motou smiled, just a little bit. Seto thought it might be a trap. He didn’t say anything back about Atem being the only 27 year old to be elected judge in the history of the county, somehow still edging him out for prestige even after all Seto had accomplished.

“Thank you, your honor.” Seto tried to sound humble, but humility wasn’t quite his best look. Mokuba winced, and Kaiba realized that it may have even sounded sarcastic.

“And how many hours of pro bono legal work have you contributed to the community in the last four years?”

Kaiba instantly blanched. The hungover nausea spiked again, and he closed his eyes to keep his focus. “I would have to consult my records.”

“That’s fine. Your fellow named partner is right here, I’ll ask him. Mr. Mokuba Kaiba, keeping in mind your duty of candor to the court, do you know how many hours your firm donates in pro bono work? That is legal work, for the good of the community, given for free?”

Mokuba fought the urge to squirm. “Yes, your honor. Our firm donates 1,000 hours a year, spread among our 200 employees. We are pleased to serve Domino Domestic Violence Clinic, Domino Orphan Children and Adoption Services, and the Pegasus LGBTQIA Homeless Youth Shelter.”

“That’s wonderful,” Judge Motou said warmly. “And how many hours have you personally donated this year?”

“75 so far!” Mokuba smiled. Kaiba frowned—his brother was falling right into the judge’s trap.

“And are you the custodian of your firm’s timekeeping records?” Judge Motou asked.

“Yes, your honor.”

“And since you keep track of your hours, and your firm’s hours, would you be aware of your brother’s hours?”

Mokuba’s face settled into a professional smile. “Yes, your honor.”

Seto fought to suppress a sigh.

“So, how many hours has your brother donated this year?”

Mokuba looked to his brother on the stand. “None personally, to my knowledge, but many of his contributions are of a pecuniary nature that far exceeds the value that a corporate attorney’s time could bring to any of these charities.”

The Judge nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Mokuba Kaiba. Now, Mr. Seto Kaiba, do you think that your counsel’s representation is inaccurate?”

“No.” Seto said.

“Out of curiosity, in your four years of legal practice, have you donated any of your time?”

“I would have to check my records.”

Judge Motou smiled in a sinister manner, “that’s fine. I can ask your counsel, the custodian of records at your firm and—”

“No, your honor” Seto interrupted, “to my knowledge I have not personally completed any pro bono hours since being admitted to the Domino bar. As you know, it is not a requirement to maintain my license.”

Judge Motou made a small noise of assent. “Alright, then I have no further questions. Do you have any questions for the witness, Mr. Kaiba?”

“No,” answered Mokuba.

“Then, Mr. Seto Kaiba may step down from the stand.” And Seto did as he was instructed, returning to sit next to his brother, and shooting a menacing glare at him on the way over.

“Having considered the evidence and acknowledging that Mr. Seto Kaiba has taken full responsibility for his actions, Mr. Kaiba shall be released on his own recognizance. He will have to pay the applicable court fees, and is sentenced to a $10,000 fine, which I suspect will only feel like a slap on the wrist given his resources. I am going to suspend the five-days jail penalty provided by the statute for assault and drunk and disorderly, and give Mr. Kaiba six months of supervised release instead. A term of that supervised release is that he must complete to 200 hours of community service, which may be satisfied by pro bono legal work for any of the many charities an social services in the city. I am also setting a deadline—if Mr. Kaiba does not complete all 200 hours within the next six-months, he will be held in contempt of court, may have his license to practice law revoked, and of course would be remanded to state custody to serve the five-day suspended sentence.”

Mokuba rose to his feet immediately, “Your honor, that is a very harsh sentence. Besides the fact that 200 hours is a full month of work to complete in addition to Mr. Kaiba’s very busy professional calendar, this is a first offense, a mutual—”

“Mr. Mokuba Kaiba, I am going to have to stop you there,” Judge Motou raised his gavel as a warning, “Mr. Seto Kaiba has come before this court for mercy, and he has been granted it. You may, of course, appeal his sentence if you think it is not supported by the evidence. But of course, it is within the statutory limits. And Mr. Kaiba is an officer of this court. What Mr. Kaiba’s behavior has demonstrated is that he believes that, given his relative wealth, he is above the law. No man is above the law, Mokuba. Not even your brother.”

Mokuba sat down. “Thank you, your honor.”

“You are welcome. This judgment is final and shall be entered.” Judge Motou slammed the gavel down and let it echo through the courtroom, “Please pay the fine and collect the applicable forms from the Clerk’s Office on the second floor. I do not plan to see either of you in this matter again. This matter is adjourned.”

. . .

Seto turned and walked down the aisle and out of the courtroom. He was a free man, but at what terrible cost. Mokuba trailed after him in his little white suit.

“Went as well as could be expected,” Mokuba chirped at his brother, still slightly taller than him, “Judge Motou is a notorious hardass.”

Seto nodded, though his eyes were furious. It was his own fault for letting his brother, fresh from law school, represent him instead of hiring a real criminal attorney. Internally, Seto was thinking of whether he could find some way to sue the judge for ruling on his case, when he could have been conflicted out for knowing him personally. Still, in the jurisdiction, knowing someone from high school was not enough of a conflict of interest to force a judge to recuse himself. Seto seethed some more. 

But his little brother had tried his best, and he wasn’t in jail, so Seto would lock that anger inside instead.

That anger would be released at 3 a.m. that night, when Seto was talking with opposing counsel on a hostile takeover call. For twenty solid minutes Seto outlined every single flaw and failure of the target company that he could find in the due diligence report at full volume. Then he heard the opposing counsel sniffle—with illness, or fear, or tears, Seto could not know. It set him off again, in any case, and he went on for another forty-five minutes, absolutely trashing every aspect of the company, the market, the product, the end user. He threatened that his client would buy up every single cobalt mine and black list the target company. His client would invent fifty machines that were twice as profitable as whatever pathetic thing the target company made, and then sell them for half the price. His client would ruin every scrap of a chance that the target company had left to make it through the year without filing for bankruptcy, and Seto said that he would laugh as his client drove them into the ground.

At the end, the meek attorney on the other side of the line stated that he would relay notes from the call to his bosses. The company was acquired for less than half of the initial offer, and everyone was grateful when the deal finally went through.

Mokuba approached his brother in his office—the biggest on the floor, which used to belong to their late adopted-father. 

“What the fuck was that?” Mokuba asked, his tone more diplomatic than his words.

Seto did not look up from his laptop, “What was what?”

“You. Being the worlds most insane bastard on our overnight deal. That.” Mokuba’s tone was heating up a little bit, edging towards righteous anger. 

“Our client got a wonderful result. I’m sure they’re happy.”

“Yeah they _paid_ less for the company, Seto, but now half of the acquired company’s employees want to quit. Cause their _lawyer_ told them that they were in a terrible business. And they aren’t! Because if they _were,_ then we would have told our client not to acquire it. It was vengeful, it was unnecessary, and frankly it was short-sighted for you to go off like that. Do you want to talk about what’s really going on?”

Seto looked up from his laptop. “Are you my lawyer or my psychiatrist?”

Mokuba wandered over to sit on the edge of his brother’s huge maple-wood desk.It was engraved with carvings of dragons along the side panels, with little embossed flames framing the burgundy leather flat surface in the center which was fastened by large brass studs. It looked like something from a medieval castle rather than a law firm.

“I’m your brother.” Mokuba looked at Seto with his biggest puppy dog eyes. Since Mokuba had graduated from law school, he was more of a shark than a puppy. But Seto was also weak for his brother and had never intended to keep him at a distance.

“Fine. I am not happy about the incident.” Seto relented.

“No, duh.” Mokuba said, before breaking into laughter. “But you gotta keep it together, big bro. Everyone knows you’re the scariest guy in Domino Tech M&A, but we don’t want them thinking you’re straight-up unhinged!”

Seto cracked a slight smile in spite of himself. “I’ll work on it.”

“Good!” Cheered Mokuba, returning to his usual peppy energy. “I have some ideas for what you should do for your community service. If we spread the 200 over six months, you need to do about eight hours a week.”

“Great. I still don’t know how the hell I can add another day when I already don’t take weekends.” Seto rolled his eyes, returning to his laptop. “I’m billing while we’re having this conversation.”

Mokuba’s smile faded a little, but he wasn’t going to let it go. “I was thinking, let’s split it into two half-days! Maybe Tuesday and Thursday mornings you do the community service, and we just organize the rest of the closings around that as much as possible.”

“HA!” Kaiba spit. “You can’t organize a closing around my schedule.”

Mokuba rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t afford to lose your license, Seto. So I’ll plan on picking up your—” Mokuba stopped himself from saying “slack” but only barely “—your… cases, on those mornings. And here’s your first assignment: one of the guys you went to high school with, I’m still friends with him on Facebook, and he’s working at Domino Children and Family Services. They always need guardians ad litem to help argue on behalf of the children’s best interest, and these families usually can’t afford to pay those fees. So often, kids don’t have anyone advocating for them!”

Seto was typing away at this point, determined to pretend he didn’t care about the situation. Mokuba leaned over the desk and started to close the laptop on Seto’s clicking fingers.

“That’s exactly the sort of protection that could have helped us, Seto.” Seto finally, begrudgingly, looked up, and met his brother’s heartbreaking gaze for just a few seconds.

“Fine. Set up an appointment for tomorrow morning, and I’ll go.”

“Booyah!” Mokuba shouted and dipped out of the room. 

Seto tried to refocus his attention on the draft transaction before him. One pharmaceutical company that designed a biologic that was almost through FDA regulatory approval was the target of Seto’s much larger client. He was planning on making some calls to DC that would dramatically change the target company’s regulatory approval timeline. His FDA contact mentioned that the increased investigation that Seto suggested would delay widespread access to advanced treatment for some of the cancer patients, but Seto reminded him of the liabilities that undertested medications could have, and pointed to certain statistical anomalies in the relevant studies. At the end of the call, the administrator sighed and said “I can’t tell if we’re making sure unsafe products aren’t released or letting people die from the red tape.” Seto was determined not to be bothered by either reasoning, and he would still bill his client for the time the administrator spent pondering the ethical dilemma. 

. . .

Joey’s Office, unlike Seto’s Office, looked like shit. There was no space on the plastic folding desk—everywhere but the designated rectangle where he parked his laptop was layered so high with files and teetering stacks of paper, Seto was sure even just one more page could cause the entire room to collapse in on itself.

Seto stood in the doorway, in his pitch-black blazer, black turtleneck, black slacks, and black shoes. He felt wildly overdressed for the occasion, and almost talked himself out of going in, if he hadn’t been wasting some genuinely valuable time. He finally pushed himself in to see Joey, sitting at his desk, looking better than Seto had remembered with his shaggy blond hair and amber eyes. He had been rivals with a friend of Joey’s and he only vaguely could recall any interactions with the blond man. 

“Seto Fucking Kaiba, as I live and breathe!” Joey shouted when Seto finally got the nerve to knock on the door frame. The door was entirely absent and bare screws poked out from where the hinges had been in the door frame.

Seto smirked a little. Seto knew himself well enough, and he assumed any connection from his past had some lingering animosity. He was happy enough that the… really quite handsome tan blond man didn’t punch him in the face.

Seto knew had been especially awful in high school. And college. And law school—but no one became a nicer person in law school. Seto certainly hadn’t paid Harvard a cool $200,000 to make him into a friendlier guy. He wasn’t sure he had improved much since then either.

“Well, I bet you’re a better lawyer than you were a friend,” Joey said scornfully, though Seto couldn’t fathom what the blond man was still mad at him about.

“I assure you, I am the best lawyer.” Seto smirked.

Joey laughed a little at this, as if reminiscing. Seto had no interest in sharing the nostalgia. Middle school had been literal torture, and in high school his priorities were radically different from those of his peers. The only student Seto had really dedicated meaningful thought to was his rival for the Valedictorian position—the very man who had become the youngest sitting judge in Domino County history and who had sentenced him to this drivel. He had graduated as an extremely embittered Salutatorian and planned to go toe to toe with Atem in court at his next opportunity—until Atem ascended to the bench.

“You really haven’t changed much. Have a seat. Ya want some tea?” Joey offered.

Joey himself did not have an office chair, per se, but a bright blue medicine ball that he involuntarily bounced on. Joey also did not have chairs for guests, but alongside three foot tall stacks of case files and an overburdened bookcase, he did have several primary colored bean bags that had been beat to hell. The colors were grayed with dirt and use, the seams pulling apart, and little pellets were seeping from the bags onto the speckled teal linoleum floor. 

Seto would prefer to stand.

“I am fine.” Seto handed over the court-issued form that included Seto’s name, probation information, and all of his projected dates and times for public service for the month. The only thing that hadn’t been filled out was the space for Joey’s signature.

“Not so fast! I’m not gonna sign this until after you’ve actually done the work.” Joey put it down on top of his laptop, in a valley of files.

Seto looked offended. “I am a hard worker. Anyone who knows me knows that. And I will do what is required of me.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m just not sure you’re cut out for this line of work. Ya ain’t exactly an empathetic guy.” Joey said with a challenging smile. He seemed to be having fun being the person with all of the power in the situation, and he was very effective at making it clear how little control Seto had.

“I don’t need to volunteer my time here. I can go to any other charity or volunteer lawyer position anywhere I like, and they’d be honored to have me.” Seto liked to rise to a challenge.

“So why here? Why not go man the legal aid desk at the law library. We both know how few people show up at those. Hell, you could probably meet your precious billables while getting yer hours signed off.” 

Seto took a deep breath. “Mokuba requested I take the position. I am honoring him by accepting it. Why does it matter to you?”

“It doesn’t, I was just wonderin’. Anyway that’s as good an answer as any, and other than yer recent criminal activity, you passed the background check with flyin’ colors, so welcome to the team!” Joey rose from his medicine ball to dig around in his jeans pocket. With a surprisingly warm smile, he fished out a building access card. “This is my spare. You can use it to get around the office til they finish authorizing a new one for ya.”

Seto opened his hand and let Joey drop the warm white rectangular plastic in his palm.

“Now! That was the first order ‘a business. Next, I gotta give you the grand tour. If ya please?” Joey extended his arm and waved Seto out of the cramped office.

After Seto backed into the hallway, Joey emerged with a duel monsters lanyard holding an ID card beating against his white shirt and blue jean jacket. “First stop—the copy room!” The copy room had a large and extremely old copying machine, a clearly defunct fax machine, some scattered paper of various colors, and a typewriter, among the typical office accoutrements. 

“Next stop—break room!” The breakroom was somehow even sadder than the copy room. One plastic folding table and four plastic folding chairs were the primary furnishings with an open bag of hot Cheetos abandoned in the middle of the table. “You’re free to have some!” Joey offered. Seto declined. 

The tour continued past maybe thirty cubicles in various states of disrepair, many garnished with people’s memorabilia and funny signs.

“And for the most important room of all—the waiting room for our clients!” It really was clearly the most important room. It was by far the best taken care of and held the first rug that Seto had seen in the building—a fuzzy and red giant icon of an apple laid in the middle. There was a wooden train set that was obviously missing a few pieces, a wire-and-bead contraption that Seto thought he recognized from being processed in an institution like this when he was a child, and a box of dilapidated off-brand giant legos. There were some boxes of crayons scattered about and some half-finished coloring sheets. 

Noticeably, the room was absent of any actual children.

“Where are the kids?” Seto asked.

“It’s 8 o’clock, man. Unless there’s an emergency, they’re mostly at school? Or at least, I hope they are.” Joey looked at Seto, as if his question was dumb. Seto instantly prickled and went quiet.

The tour returned to Joey’s office, where he held out a piece of paper with a list of names. “As a court-appointed representative for the kids, yer gonna have to do some research and meet them and stuff. Your bro said you were planning on Tuesday and Thursday from 8 to noon?”

Seto nodded and looked at the paper. He saw the addresses, and noticed that several were in the same building. A pair of names with matching last names jumped out at him.

“Then you can probably help out in about half of my ongoing cases. We’ll head over to the Cliffside apartments first.”

Seto offered another nod. “We should take separate cars, in case this runs long. I have other commitments.”

Joey huffed an unamused laugh. “Yeah, I figured.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaiba meets his first client.

Seto Kaiba instantly hated this job. He hated standing in the hallway at Cliffside, the stink of unclean linoleum and despair heavy in the muggy air, he loathed knocking on the doors, he dreaded talking to strangers in various mental states and various states of undress. He hated that people treated him with absolutely no regard whatsoever, like he was an unwelcome mailman or garbage man. The very worst was when clients regarded him as if he were the police—unmitigated and unthinking terror in their eyes. Kaiba, as a professional, relished the feeling of fear emanating from opposing counsel in shaky, sweaty handshakes and slightly quivering lips, trembling voices. But this sense of being feared was different and made him feel almost disgusted with himself.

The client who needed the most imminent attention was a boy named Alister. He was maroon-haired, with poorly trimmed bangs and had a deeply disturbed look in his eyes. He had recently emigrated from Crimea and was living with some older cousins. He was already overstaying his visa, but that was a problem for an immigration attorney. He had an upcoming guardianship hearing that was contested.

At this point, Seto was only there to evaluate, for the court, whether his cousins were competent to care for him, and whether their continued custody was in his best interest. The oldest, Marsel, 17, was legally emancipated, the proud owner of a GED, and apparently was doing perfectly well as a barista at a local coffee shop. He also was terrible at cleaning the odor of marijuana from the house, and the whole place was thick with the smell of burnt leaf. The other party vying for control of the boy was a local slumlord known only as “Dartz” who claimed to have some distant familial relation to the boy.

Alister was at the house, which wasn’t part of Joey’s plan. When he spotted Joey he embraced him with a hug, but he considered Seto with considerably more concern. 

“Hey, Red!” Joey greeted the nine-year-old wrapped around his legs. Seto kept his distance, leaning against the aging white refrigerator. Although there were signs of wear and the echoes of spills lingering on the ice box, there were also some rudimentary drawings of tanks displayed. Judging from the usage of crayon, Kaiba suspected the artist was encircling his co-worker.

“Joey!” Alister cheered. The boy closed his eyes and held Joey in a hug for a disturbing length of time.

After a while he opened his eyes and looked up with suspicion. “Who’s this?”

Seto felt too high up to converse with the child, sensing every inch of his long legs and torso, plus the entire aura of distance he had worked so hard to cultivate kept him miles from the small child. 

Joey nodded at Seto, inducing him to introduce himself.

“I am Seto Kaiba, assigned by the court to evaluate the suitability of your home in order to make a determination as to your permanent placement.” Seto said, stiffly.

Alister’s eyes were a little wide, and even more distrustful than before.

Joey laughed at the stilted and precise language of his partner. “He’s here ta help me!”

Alister looked away from Kaiba and shrugged, staring instead at Joey’s knees. “I know that the Kaiba family was involved in the war.”

Joey looked over at Kaiba with a shrug. Kaiba had a canned answer prepared. “My father, Gozaburo, was an attorney for many bad actors, globally. Especially in armament negotiations and acquisitions.” Kaiba had reiterated it hundreds of times during his career in higher education, to anyone who recognized the name and rightfully dreaded its implications. “But I do not do anything like that. I represent high technology acquisitions, with a special focus in gaming, holography, and quantum computing, though I also work in pharmaceuticals.”

“So why are you…?” The child hugged Joey even tighter. “In my house.” The child finished with a whisper.

Seto stirred. “I have also been assigned your Guardian ad Litem before the Court.”

Joey gestured with a free hand for Seto to go on, as if trying to get Seto to say more reassuring things. Joey’s other hand was consumed with soothingly petting the boy’s hair, the child still holding a concerning grip around his partner’s knees.

Seto stumbled. “That means that I am your advocate in the law.”

The child did not look reassured. 

“And that is good, for you. I am very good at law,” Seto said. “People pay thousands of dollars for each hour of my time. And I get excellent results for my clients.”

The uncomfortable tension persisted.

“And now you are one such client.” Seto added.

After a pause, he added, “You should be pleased.”

Joey rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. “Yer in good hands, kid. Don’t worry. Ya got good people looking out for ya. Now we need ta talk to your cousins. Who’s around?”

“Emil’s at work, but Marsel is in his room. I dunno if he wants company though.” Alister looked away from Joey without releasing him.

Joey suppressed another eye roll, “I emailed him like eight times about this. It’s important.”

“I know…” Alister looked guilty.

“You did nothing wrong, kiddo. Sometimes people don’t handle responsibility as well as we wish they would. Now, is he doing stuff in there that could get him in trouble if an officer of the court showed up?” Joey asked.

Alister nodded.

“Alright. He off again Thursday morning?”

The kid nodded again.

“Ok. We’ll be back. You otta be at school, alright? What are you doin’ home?”

“I… I didn’t want to go. The other kids aren’t very nice.”

Joey took a deep breath. “You still need ta go, alright? Has Marsel been taking good care of you?”

Alister smiled a little, finally releasing Joey’s knees. “Yeah. He got a raise and he’s been trying real hard.”

“Are ya happy here?”

“Happy as I can be, without Mikey,” Alister said. Joey’s warm energy dipped a little at that, and he nodded slowly. “I don’t want them to take me away.”

“Good ta hear. Call if you need anything, and tell yer cousin to clean up his act Thursday morning, okay?”

Alister nodded and leaned in before finally releasing Joey.

“I’ll see him Thursday. Yer gonna be at school.” Alister nodded again.

Kaiba and Joey could hear the click of the lock on the door behind them.

After they exited their apartment, Seto stopped Joey with a hand on his shoulder. Kaiba tried to ignore the heat under his palm, the spark of electricity from touching another man.

“You do know that we are supposed to report that.”

“The pot?”

“Yes. Drug use makes a home legally unsuitable.” Kaiba’s eye contact was intense, appreciating all of the seriousness of his position.

Joey looked away, and shrugged Kaiba’s hand from his shoulder. Kaiba immediately removed his offending palm. “Well, he’s with family that loves him, and he’s healing from a lotta stuff, and you didn’t actually _see_ anything, didja?”

Seto did not like the way that Joey’s “didja” sounded. It rang in his ears the same way it did when his father would say “checkmate.”

“I don’t recall you bein’ a narc, Kaiba.” Joey said.

“I am only carrying out the duties of my position. I have no individual interests. All that matters is the client’s optimum outcome. You seem to think it’s that home.”

Joey had his own intensity, and a fire burned behind his amber eyes. “Yeah, he’s best off there. You’ll see, Dartz is a fucking asshole. I don’t know what he wants with that kid, and I don’t wanna know. Just cause Dartz is powerful, he thinks he can take anythin’ he wants. Alister just lost his brother, he doesn’t need ta be separated from the people he’s closest too just cause they’re still growing up.”

Kaiba looked away, a darkness settling behind his eyes. “Wealth alone does not make one a suitable guardian. If you think that these cousins can genuinely handle the responsibility, and that his current placement is in his best interests, then I have no further comment.”

The remaining visits went generally more smoothly, with parents recovering from drug addictions and other vices, struggling older siblings, and one minor living alone, filing for emancipation. 

Seto found himself pleased to be able to help the teen with his petition. He remembered navigating it alone after his father’s “untimely demise.” There was something that stirred in his chest when he was able to clear up some questions about the terminology that he had to struggle with in his teens. That feeling might have been fulfillment, if he had given himself the time to think through it.

Instead, he proceeded with as much efficiency as he could. Even Seto could tell his approach was not making effective inroads with his new clients, but his process had worked for so many years… He was certain the kids would come around. 

“The kids really do enjoy your company and advice.” Kaiba said to Joey as their morning wrapped up. Kaiba was unable to say it while making eye contact. He hated to give compliments, but something tiny and deep tore at him. A primordial memory of his own vulnerability, inspired by Rafael’s application for emancipation maybe. And Joey’s warmth and kindness were impossible to ignore.

“Thanks! I got the best job in the world, you just can’t always tell.” Joey answered with a significant smile and a bright thumbs up. 

They walked further in silence.

“Wanna grab lunch?” Joey asked as they wound their way back to the parking lot. 

“No.” Kaiba said, easing himself into the leather driver’s seat of his shiny white Tesla. 

All of the nerves and unease that Seto had choked down for the morning bubbled up on the phone with opposing counsel. To be fair, they’d really pissed him off. Sending proposed filings alongside veiled threats was common practice, but they hadn’t even done Kaiba the dignity of doing a good job.

“You’re a third-rate lawyer with a fourth-rate brief.” Seto bit out. He all but chomped his teeth on the word brief. He shuffled the papers on his desk right against the speakerphone console. He knew the noise would echo in static and chaos on all of the parallel speakers from the conference call. He knew opposing counsel always wore a Bluetooth headset and Kaiba really wanted to torture the eardrums of his counterpart. “And not one of your citations is binding precedent for the SEC. If you would like to continue wasting your client’s time and money, please go ahead and file it. But I hate to charge my client for the strain that you impose on the adversarial system.”

The other party continued to grumble about the finer points of their proposed filings, but much of the vigor was gone. The deal would go through at four a.m. that night. Kaiba was pleased with the result, even if he almost threw up from the eighth cup of coffee. 

He couldn’t nap from the caffeine, and he couldn’t in good faith bill his clients with his exhausted mental state, so he got to work on his filings for his Guardian ad Litem work. Although such written reports were not required under Domino state law, knowing Judge Atem as Kaiba did, the additional papers with superior citations would be more compelling than just an oral report. 

Plus, if the hours were signed off by Joey, they would count towards his total, and he could finish sooner. 

Forgetting that mortals sleep, Kaiba messaged Joey to tell him that he was working on the briefing, and to start the clock for his service hours. He had scavenged his partner’s cell number from his community service paperwork.

Three hours later, Kaiba received a groggy text back: “I trust u to rpt ur hours accurately” 

Kaiba felt a little cheated. Joey was so warm in person, maybe he had mistaken that for anything besides the highest degree of professionalism. Any comradery he had sensed must have been an illusion. After all, Kaiba had shut it down every single offering of positivity Joey had proffered.

“Thank you.” Kaiba responded. “I will be off the clock on the matter at 8 a.m.”

Kaiba turned his attention back to his paid work. Researching a new area of the law had been actually… kind of fun. For so many years the law had been his obligation, and excelling in his field had been his orders, his duty, and his means for survival. It hadn’t been fun in a long time. He was surprised how refreshed he was when he returned to examining a new decision out of the Delaware Chancery Court on holding companies, insurers, and fiduciary duties.

He also found himself texting, “Good morning to you, too.” It was cheeky, but also deeply calculated. 

When he got back the crying while laughing face and the emoji of a sun, his heart did something it wasn’t supposed to. 

Seto considered closing his laptop and going home. He must have been truly sleep deprived to desire anything from the interaction.

Instead he poured another cup of coffee and began to prepare a client memo for an upcoming conference call.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The inherent eroticism of witness preparation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, more than most, demands the disclaimer that this is NOT LEGAL ADVICE. It's very barely legal information. It is for entertainment purposes only. If you need legal advice, the only recommendation I can give is that you should not seek it from Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction.

To be clear, Kaiba loved a lot of things about his job besides just how stunningly lucrative his field was. He loved being the smartest man in the room, and he loved letting everyone know that. He loved that lawyers had carte blanche to yell at each other in the heat of negotiation. He loved the catered lunches. The expensive coffee. The respect.

But his very favorite thing was that, with enough work, he could remove all randomness from the interaction. With sufficient due diligence, obsessive doc review, and a supreme knowledge of the law, every single factor could be known, analyzed, perfected. Every flaw removed. Enough focus and proofing was all it took. 

Corporate law was gorgeous that way. Companies, spreadsheets, highly trained executives. Once he put them through the sieve of his practice they’d come out pristine.

Family law was the exact opposite. Every single being had flaws on full display. Like a beauty pageant for trauma, all of the troubles and weaknesses were highlighted in every case. The law all but poked at the deepest wounds. 

And the randomness? Each witness was a gamble. Especially Joey.

Even if Seto knew that he couldn’t draw out every unpredictable element from his star witness, with enough preparation, Joey’s testimony might be tolerable.

For once, Joey was invited to Seto’s offices for preparations. Joey stood out a bit, with his jean jacket and plain white shirt. Something about him seemed rugged and natural—and entirely too lively for Seto’s sanguine office. 

The passing thought that Joey really did bring a lot of life and warmth into the miserable room stung at Seto. He tried to wipe away the thought and focus on the matter at hand.

“Ok, let’s practice. I’m a corporate lawyer, so I have not spent a large portion of my career in the courtroom—I’m too… expensive. But I was the champion of the inter-law school moot court competition at _Harvard_ , and I am not at all concerned.” Seto was careful to use his haughtiest tone. 

He smirked when Joey groaned at the boast.

“Alright, sure. Practice makes perfect an’ all. But I should warn ya, I’ve gone on the stand in a few cases, I’m pretty damn good as a witness.” Joey said. He adjusted the collar of his jean jacket so it stood perkier.

“There are some serious weaknesses in Alister’s cousin’s custody case, and if you truly think he should stay there, then we need to perfect the defense.” Kaiba stood over his desk, clicking open his briefcase and pulling out some of the papers he’d brought home the night before. Alister’s case had been ticking at him in his free time. From his timekeeping records, he could probably finish his court-ordered service on Alister’s case alone.

“Ha, ya seem pretty invested.” Joey craned his head over the desk to get a better look at the papers.

“I don’t fail, and I’m not about to let you ruin my record.” Seto removed a larger binder clip and thumbed through the pages.

“Yeah, but you do really want him to stay where he’s comfortable, doncha?!”

Kaiba didn’t look up and tried to maintain a dismissive tone. “You’ve determined that it’s the best place for him to stay. Superior to being entered into Dartz’s facility.”

“Since when do you care what I think?” Joey leaned in further. Kaiba reflexively pulled himself back.

“This is your profession and I am under your supervision per court order.”

Joey heaved himself onto Kaiba’s desk, his butt displacing a stray file. “Do you trust me, Kaiba?”

Seto responded with only icy silence, stunned at the casual closeness. Seto couldn’t help but notice how broad Joey’s shoulders were, or resist breathing in his scent. He smelled a little bit like motor oil and body spray. He was certain his pupils were blown wide, betraying him. “This is your profession, and I agree with your assessment that the more distant relatives of Alister may not have his best interests at heart.” He prayed he wasn’t speaking as fast as it felt like he was. And he was pissed that the other man’s proximity was making him so visibly nervous. “Now, we need to practice.”

“First is direct examination. In a direct examination, I am not permitted to ask ‘leading questions.’ Leading questions is a term of art, it means that I have to ask you questions that are open ended. I cannot provide the answer. But that doesn’t mean that you should just respond with whatever you want to say. We’re still going to know what you should say, and it should be limited, accurate, and tailored tightly to my question.”

“I think I know how to answer questions, Kaiba.”

“Alright. Do you know what time it is?”

Joey pulled out his phone. The aging iPhone’s screen was all but shattered, little glass flecks missing from the corners and a web of cracks fragmenting his background photo, which appeared to be a selfie of Joey and a selection of his friends. Seto could recognize Atem’s brother, and he identified the other two as Atem’s court reporter and baliff. Seto suppressed his gag reflex for the purpose of continuing the lesson.

“Uhh… it’s 8:23 am.”

“Wrong.” Kaiba interjected. “You didn’t know the time. You had to look it up. The correct answer to that question, therefore, was ‘No.’”

“Yer so fucking pedantic. How does this affect the kids literally at all?”

“It all matters in the litigation. It is about… our effective communication. You need to be able to understand me, and I need to be sure that I can make this examination narrow. That way, if the counsel for an adverse party wants to ask a bad question, it is beyond the scope of the direct examination. Here, I’ll show you.”

Kaiba took a second to straighten his tie and took a deep breath. “Sit down.” He directed Joey to the couch in his office. Joey complied.

“Mr. Wheeler, have you ever been to the residence at Cliffside apartments?” Kaiba’s tone was somehow even tighter than before, his speech more clipped.

Joey stretched his legs leisurely on the marble coffee table. His shoe nearly knocked over a glass trophy labelled “AmLaw100 30 Under 30 2019.” Kaiba didn’t flinch, he had three more on the shelf behind him, anyway.

“Yeah, a few times.” 

Kaiba raised his hand to stop the practice. He furrowed his brow, sensing this was going to be a much longer session than he had hoped.

“What’d I do wrong _now_?” Joey whined.

“You answered more than just my question. See, now they can ask a lot of undesirable follow-up questions on cross examination. For instance, now opposing counsel can ask about every other time you’ve been to Alister’s house. Including Tuesday. And opposing counsel can keep going. Ask you what you saw, why you didn’t include it in your official report. Opposing counsel can ask who went with you. And why it wasn’t in my report. Then they can ask about why you failed to make an official report and you’ll say…”

“That I didn’t see anything, Marcel was unavailable.”

“And then they ask if you know why he was unavailable. Why you would do a homevisit that he wouldn’t be available for? What else he could have been doing?”

“I’ll tell them it was an accident.”

“You swore to tell the whole truth, Mr. Wheeler. They can call me to the stand. I do not intend to lie to cover a professional judgment decision that you made. So then you lose your livelihood, and the child is removed from the care of his loved ones. And it will be even worse because opposing counsel can ask leading questions and you won’t be able to explain yourself until I come in and clean up the mess on re-direct.” Kaiba removed an invisible piece of lint from his lapel. “That’s why you have to listen to what I actually ask and answer that question and only that question. So let’s try it again.”

Like a fish, Joey’s mouth opened and shut a few times. He then appeared to decide not to bother fighting, and just levelled a heated glare at his lawyer.

Kaiba’s eyes scanned his notes. “Mr. Wheeler, have you ever been to the residence at Cliffside apartments?”

“Yes.” Kaiba nodded his approval.

“I have a report that you made on Thursday, July 9, 2020. Did you visit the subject residence on that day?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Now you see that you haven’t left yourself open to a lot of cross examination on other times you’ve been to Cliffside. They can still probably ask, but I can make an objection, and at the very least the judge will give the opposing counsel a shorter leash, since it wasn’t covered on direct. As opposed to the first time, when you will probably have to detail each visit, including those that did not result in a filed report. Which could also open you up to discovery sanctions.”

Joey rolled his eyes, “But they can still ask anyway, right?”

“If they catch the transition. Not all attorneys are as clever as I am. In fact, the only person who has ever bested me is now… the judge on this matter.” Kaiba felt the heat rise in his throat just saying it. 

“Oh my god, you still have beef with Atem Motou?” Joey bit back.

Kaiba looked away. “When you are as brilliant as I am, you can attract enemies.” Kaiba shrugged a shoulder for effect.

This was the wrong thing to say, Kaiba realized about ten seconds too late. Joey rose from his lounging position and approached with a hotheadedness that Kaiba didn’t expect. 

“No. Yer a prick, and you treat everyone like they’re less than. You only look out for yourself, you couldn’t be less fucking self-aware if you wore a blindfold and earplugs.” His eyes were alight with suppressed anger. Kaiba wondered if he’d been practicing this speech since Kaiba had shown up in his office, weeks ago. “And then, ya have the gall to imply that its’ other people’s fault that you have enemies?! I was in your high school graduating class, though I guess you don’t remember?? I thought you had grown up like… a speck? But you’re worse than you used to be!”

“You have no idea who I was in high school.” Kaiba growled.

“You have no idea who you were in high school.” Joey said, taking a deep breath and stepping back. He angrily plopped back on the black leather couch. “Just fucking get on with it.”

The bitterness in the room was palpable. Just harsh eye contact and the pure sort of animosity that had gotten Kaiba into this trouble in the first place. 

“You need to keep practicing.” Kaiba said as he forfeited the staring contest. “Let’s work on your cross.”

Joey rolled his eyes, but he softened his expression. Some part of Kaiba was pleased that Joey seemed to appreciate the importance of the lesson.

“There are a few important things on cross.” Kaiba held out his pointer finger. “The first is that it is your most vulnerable position. I will do my best to protect you, but there is only so much that I can do during the cross itself. If you’ve conceded too much ground, I’ll tidy it up on re-direct as best I can. If I have to do that, record will still be imperfect.”

“Alright.” Joey said.

Kaiba raised a second finger. “Next, you want to try and explain your answer, but opposing counsel may might cut you off. If he crosses any boundaries, I’ll object. But again, there is only so much that can be done at this stage and it will be –”

“Cleaned on re-direct, I got it. Remember, this isn’t my first rodeo.”

“Yes, but you’ve never done this with a competent attorney.”

Joey looked offended. Seto hadn’t intended for the comment to strike him—it was just a passing blow at the low hanging fruit of his fellow public servant.

“They’re good people. Kind. Trying ta help folks. Unlike yer kinda lawyer.”

Seto rolled his eyes and continued his lecture, raising his third finger. “Next: you need to listen to my objections. At the very least, they should shape how you answer the question. Under certain circumstances, you will be required not to answer. I’ll do my best to say ‘the witness is instructed not to answer’ but I can’t make any promises. So just wait a beat and listen to me, and the judge, before you answer.”

Joey rolled his eyes. “Ya really think I wouldn’t listen to you in open fucking court?!”

“I don’t know,” Kaiba said curt and cutting. Kaiba raised his pinky. “Last, but not least, is that you must ask opposing counsel to repeat any question if you are, in any way shape or form, confused about what exactly is being asked. This seems obvious, and you have a lot of practice being confused. But if you feel that way after the opposing counsel asks a question, that’s a serious problem.”

Joey had stopped looking at Kaiba halfway through the explanation and was fixated on the coffee table. Joey looked like he was thinking about spitting on the glass trophy. “You may be the single worst volunteer we have ever had, Kaiba.”

Kaiba shrugged. “I have no intention of being at all ineffective. Now, let’s practice. Pretend I’m opposing counsel. That would be someone who works directly for Dartz.”

Kaiba took another deep inhale and adjusted his blue tie. He fixed Joey with a dead-eyed stare. Kaiba spent quite a lot of time looking into the middle distance like that—empty, kind pissed. It was his lawyer face, and it had served him well. The look was a bit more bored than it was angry. A perfect, distant, impartial countenance. 

From the look on Joey’s face, he absolutely fucking hated it.

“Mr. Wheeler, is it true that you visited the Cliffside residence on Thursday, July 9, 2020?”

“Yes.”

“But that was not your only visit, was it?”

“No, I’ve been a couple ‘a times.”

Kaiba raised his hand. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. The answer there should have been ‘no.’ Because I would have objected and said this was outside the scope of direct examination, which it might have been, but _you opened the door_. I’ll admit, this isn’t quite the best example. But we do not want you to have to talk about the Tuesday visit on the stand.”

“Alright, alright. Man, it’s gonna be fine.” Joey stood up again, and grabbed his backpack from near Kaiba’s office door.

“You were the one who told me that Dartz was a threat to Alister. If you don’t think he’s a formidable enemy, then I’ll stop spending so much time on this case.”

Joey yanked open the heavy mahogany door, and gazed into the hallway. “You just wanna spend time on this case so yer hours are over faster.” 

Kaiba took a deep breath. Internally, he really wanted to ask Joey if he meant that. If his tenacity and effort on this case really didn’t betray his desire to protect the kid. Instead he asked, “Are you unsatisfied with the way that I have allocated my hours worked in the course of my service?”

Joey didn’t move from the doorway.

“Let’s try again. Mr. Wheeler, do you know what time it is?” Kaiba said at his back. 

Joey spun to face him. Kaiba was taken aback at his broad smile.

“Time for you to get a watch!” Joey burst out laughing.

Kaiba ground his teeth and tended to his papers. He started stacking and then smacking them against the table, ostensibly to straighten them out before applying a hefty binder clip.

“Why should I take this seriously when you don’t?” Kaiba said, menacing. 

“Hey! I’m taking it seriously! But I think we’ve got it. I’ll try not to mention anything about Tuesday, and you’ll cover me if something slips.”

Kaiba looked away, concerned. “I still don’t have a good plan to fix it. I’m not sure I can keep it out.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll think ‘a something! We’re doing Dartz’ home visit on Thursday so you can put it in your report.”

. . .

At 2 a.m. on what was technically Thursday, it was becoming painfully clear to Kaiba that he was not, in fact, going to think of something. And then he’d fail Alister, and Joey would see him as a failure. And he wouldn’t sign the paperwork to release him from the community service. And Joey would think he was weak. And a dumb bastard. And worst of all… a bad lawyer. 

Kaiba stared at his ceiling. Even he was surprised that he was getting to sleep in his bed (or rather, lay there listlessly), but the deal had blissfully gone through at 11 p.m. on a Wednesday night. It had been fairly excruciating for the 13 hours that lead up to it, and the whole negotiation had passed like a kidney stone. But he had made good on his promise to Mokuba to make it through at least one matter without unleashing hell on opposing counsel. It had taken every ounce of his formidable stock of self-control to maintain stiff politeness with opposing counsel on the matter. They had been walking on egg shells with him, and he had been so terribly tempted to show them what they seemed to fear so much.

But the deal was signed, the matter was over and now…

Now he felt almost bereft, with no clients breathing down his neck and no due diligence to turn over endlessly in his mind.

His mind kept running through the mock examination with Joey. He desperately tried to steer it towards their legal problem, and away from the soft caramel of his eyes and the warmth he emanated, when he wasn’t at Kaiba’s throat. 

But shockingly, the legal solution was just as vexing. No solution was coming to mind. He had a full home visit that he needed to completely omit. It would turn exclusively on the skill of opposing counsel, rather than his own ability to keep it out. 

And of course, the neatness of Joey Wheeler’s testimony. 

He was so fucked.

His lack of practice in litigation had always felt like a target on his side, his Achilles heel. His most obvious weak spot—apparent to anyone who took a look at his transcripts and saw that he had taken exclusively transactional coursework. He’d taken classes on three different types of technology acquisitions (start-up, pre-IPO, and post-IPO) but he hadn’t deigned to sit through even one class that included information on how to conduct a cross-examination.

It wasn’t a requirement for graduation, and he never thought he’d have to step out of his chosen niche. After all, he was the sole pilot of his future. If they didn’t give out trophies for Mock Trial, he never would have stepped foot in a courtroom, real or pretend.

Of course, it was a fitting punishment for his own foolish behavior—that unchecked rage that he was so partial too, especially inebriated by liquor and sleep deprivation. 

But it didn’t surprise him much that his obstacles were of his own creation. He grumbled to himself. Perhaps doing more case research would help him fall asleep. His laptop landed with a soft thud on top of the luxurious sheets. The weight and warmth of the laptop reminded him, for a second, that he was alone. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hearing draws near.

Everything that the trip to Cliffside was, the visit to Dartz’ Compound was not. Where Cliffside had the lingering stench of secondhand cigarette smoke, the Compound was exclusively sweet fresh air. Where every little hole in Cliffside was claustrophobic, the Compound was bright and open form.

It only served to cement Kaiba’s certainty that Joey was right. Any child accustomed to neglect would dream of a paradise like this, he was certain. But Alister was trying to turn down these palm trees and marble floors to stay on the couch with his teen cousins who couldn’t even check their emails. A wave of unease hit Kaiba, déjà vu prickling at his stomach. Something here had to be very wrong. 

That something may have been Dartz himself, another absentee party. 

“He was ‘called away on essential business,’ and he couldn’t reschedule before the preliminary hearing. So he invited us ta take a look around and put it in the report,” Joey explained as they two stood, gawking at an oil painting of Dartz—long blue hair and some sort of white robe—and two boys with matching white togas and dead eyes. “Valon and Rafael, Prodigal Sons” the engraved nameplate read. Kaiba felt very uneasy around the gratuitous opulence. It reminded him too much of his own past—everything so shiny and clean and utterly devoid of life.

They peeked into the refrigerator: filled to capacity with fresh fruits and vegetables. Lean, organic chicken breast. Grass-fed, farm raised beef. Chia seed bars and baked kale lined the pantry.

They walked the grounds: an Olympic swimming pool, lanes marked off. A spotless gym. An actual rock climbing wall.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Joey said as he eyed Valon’s room. It was a carbon copy of a Pottery Barn Teen advertisement, devoid of even a speck of dust and perfectly made up. It also lacked any indication that Valon actually lived there—no clothes were visible, nor any pictures or schoolbooks. It was like a model room, set up for their edification rather than belonging to any teen.

Indulging in his toxic curiosity, Kaiba pulled open a drawer—half expecting to see condoms or cigarettes. Instead every single pair of underwear was perfectly folded. Same brand, same size, like mass ordered.

There was a mini-fridge with some Gatorade next to the desk, and that was the closest they got to anything resembling an actual choice.

Apparently, the kid’s favorite flavor was blue.

“They attend homeschool onsite, in the library,” The butler announced as they flipped through the clothes: perfect set of almost everything from this season’s Uniqlo catalogue. 

The library was a sight to behold. It kept with the causal minimalism of the rest of the house, gleaming metal and marble desks and chairs. A teen with spiky brown hair looked up from where he was perched uncomfortably. 

Besides the incredible bounce of his hair, the next most prominent feature was the IV bag draped above him, clear liquid dripping into his veins.

“Anemia,” the butler said with a soft shake of his head.

Joey waived at the kid, and he waived back vacantly.

“How do ya like it here?” Joey asked casually, warmth radiating naturally from his smile.

“Things are nice,” the teen responded robotically, “but I have to get back to my schoolwork. I failed last year, before I came here. So I have a lot of work to make up.”

The bags under his eyes concerned Kaiba, as did the tepid praise of the palatial estate. But he hadn’t technically said anything _wrong._

The final stop on the tour was to see Alister’s prospective living space. Rafael had moved out, and his room was empty. Dustless and tidy, just like his brother’s occupied room. The only difference were that these drawers were empty. “Perfect for little Alister,” the butler commented.

Joey and Kaiba exchanged a knowing look. The house was not lacking in any resource, and yet still felt sterile.

. . .

At 2 a.m. on what had just become the following Saturday, Kaiba was making a fresh set of redlines on an upcoming merger document and a spark hit him.

There was too much healthy food. Way too much, no teenage boys would be eating that perfectly clean on purpose. Not one snack food anywhere—not the bedrooms, the pantry. When Kaiba had gotten free reign of his house following his adopted father’s _untimely_ demise, the first thing that had occurred was that they had procured so many gummy bears that Mokuba could have bathed in them.

He quickly texted Joey, “Why are there no snacks?”

To which Joey insightfully replied, “wut?”

Deciding that Joey was awake enough for a phone conversation, Kaiba paused his billing timer and hit his contact.

Before Joey could even make out a greeting, Kaiba said “Do you honestly believe that these teenagers are eating kale chips exclusively out of their own volition?”

And then Kaiba realized that Joey wasn’t in his bedroom. He wasn’t ruminating on cases or busting his ass on work. He was… Kaiba could make out a woman’s laughter in the background.

“Are you on a date?” Kaiba interrogated the stunned silence of his partner.

“No, look I’m on a party but, man, that ain’t your business,” Joey answered, “And I’ve been drinkin’ so I don’t know how productive this call is ‘bout ta be.”

The slight slur of his voice stung a little at Kaiba. Why should he feel possessive over the other man’s time? Why should he feel _anything_ about his _court-ordered supervisor_ spending his free time with other people? People who made him happy? 

“Anemia has many causes, but one is nutritional deficiency. How is he having a nutritional deficiency in a house full of food?” Kaiba said harshly, instead of dealing with the way his stomach twisted.

“I dunno. He wasn’t too skinny, or like malnourished lookin’ like some a the kids I work with?” Joey answered.

“No, but there is something—”

“Look,” Joey said again, the word coming out slowly and harshly from the focus needed to make it through the call. “I dunno what you want. Yeah, that place was pretty fucked up for sure. But too nutritious? Man. Yer the lawyer? That ain’t a good argument or whateva’. Now unless you’re gonna come down and buy a round, I’m gonna get back to what I was doin’.”

Kaibe thought about it, seriously. He calculated whether that was an actual invitation to spend free time together, or if it was merely an insult to his work ethic.

And without answering the question, he elected to hang up.

Joey did send one text after that: “Dick.”

Kaiba decided that was almost certainly an insult, and not a request.

. . .

Mokuba could typically enjoy his coffee in the peace and quiet of his own office without his brother bothering him. If Seto really needed something, the man was more than generous with his use of Microsoft Teams, and did not hesitate to interrupt Mokuba’s plans with his own projects.

So, his brother paying him a personal visit unannounced was something of a surprise. 

“The timekeeping software is fucked,” Seto announced, already full of rage at 9 am. Mokuba couldn’t fathom what else had gone wrong in his brother’s morning, and he couldn’t quite tell, given the lighting, whether or not he had slept a wink in the night before.

Drawing on a reservoir of patience that he held for his brother—and only his brother—Mokuba took a deep breath. “Why do you say that?” 

They’d both finished law school, but unlike his brother, Mokuba was willing to ask questions he didn’t know the answers to.

“It reports that I only billed 200 hours last month. That’s impossible.” 

Mokuba swiveled in his grand chair to pull up his brother’s logs. “Well, according to your own reporting, you’ve billed 100 hours in pro-bono work. You’ve only spent eight hours a week with Joey on site, but according to your narratives, you’ve billed for a number of other time expenditures. A lot of legal research time, report writing and editing, a fair amount of hearing preparation…” Mokuba pressed the printer icon in the software. As soon as he pulled the paper off the printer, he dug through a drawer and collected an old calculator. He passed both objects to Seto.

“Do your own math—You’ll be done with your hours in just a few more weeks at this pace.”

Mokuba straightened his shoulders pridefully. “And nothing burned down at the firm either. Maybe you don’t have to work so hard.”

Kaiba snatched the offending timekeeping form from his hand. 

. . .

“Did you know I’m half-finished with my hours?” Kaiba had impulsively hit the contact on his phone while he grinded through obsessively checking a junior associate’s citations.

“It is 3 a.m. Kaiba. I don’t know if you’re on crack, coke, or Adderall, but something ain’t right.” Joey couldn’t keep himself from laughing at his own joke. “And hello to you too, Kaiba.”

“Hello. Did you know that?”

Joey groaned. “It’s… I’m going to see you in like six hours. And no, I haven’t looked that closely, but you’ve been pretty serious about this case.”

Kaiba was silent. Like he would ever have taken such an important case lightly.

Kaiba leaned back in his chair. “Is anyone going to take over for me?” Kaiba knew that the question sounded almost sentimental, and he hated the softness in his own voice.

Joey sounded rather thoughtful for a man who was still sleepy. “I don’t know. We proceeded without a guardian in a lot of cases, so I guess there will just be a few more like that.”

And Kaiba had no answer for that. 

“Seriously. It’s really late. Are you okay?” Joey asked, his tone dead serious.

Kaiba had already hung up before Joey’s rebuttal question completed.

. . .

The hallway in the Domino County Courthouse was not necessarily grand, but it was polished and beautiful. One wall was all floor to ceiling windows, exposing the hallway to endless natural light and a someone scenic view of downtown Domino. The rest of the hallway was chestnut paneling with brass figures. Along the opposite side, in between doors to various courtrooms labeled from A to Z, were hard wooden benches, sloping out from the wall as if they had organically grown from it.

Kaiba and Joey sat on either side of Alister, preparing the boy for the hearing for the first and last time. While witness prep with adults could be tedious, Kaiba was discovering that witness prep with children was near pointless. 

“Alright Alister, do you know what is going to happen today?” Joey asked. Alister nodded.

“Tell me what you think is going to happen.” Kaiba said, as insistent as if he was talking to another lawyer.

Alister looked up guiltily. “We’re going to talk to the judge about where I should live?”

“You guessed right,” Kaiba said.

“C’mon, Kaiba, really?” Joey ruffled Alister’s maroon hair.

Kaiba inhaled slowly. “It’s important that you know what is going to happen here. For your own good. We’re going to sit in a big room, called a courtroom, and talk to the Judge. Your only job is to answer all the questions that are asked of you as honestly and succinctly—simply—as you can, okay?”

“Okay.” The little boy nodded.

“And then Mr.—Joey is going to sit with you in another room for a while, until he has to do the same thing that you just did. Otherwise, we’re going to try to make sure you’re not alone.”

“Hey,” Joey reached out, looping an arm around Kaiba’s mid-stride and stopping him in his tracks.

“What?” Kaiba spat. His tone had already turned into his lawyer voice, deeper and colder than even before. He almost sounded offended.

“For a guy who dedicated his whole life to working in the legal system, ya sure don’t seem to have a lotta faith in it.”

Kaiba shrugged, dislodging Joey’s arm. Any warmth or friendliness that had accrued over the last month evaporated in the harshness of Kaiba’s glare. “I’m a lawyer, that doesn’t mean I’m in the system. And for a social worker, you don’t seem nearly as disillusioned as you should be.” Kaiba returned to his original long stride and leaving Alister and Joey to trail behind.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Yes his arraignment, plea, and sentencing got squished together because I did not want the whole fic to be Seto going back and forth to the court. Also yes, I know GAL’s are typically paid by either the state or the parties to a child/conservatorship litigation but the position just fit what I wanted to have Seto do this position, ok! Also they often receive special training, but it’s not entirely impossible that a law degree would cover most of the requirements. 
> 
> Also Domino City is in America now because I know nothing about Japanese law. Also now it's Domino City, in Domino County, in Domino State, USA. Whoops.
> 
> Hope it's not too obvious that I have never practiced M & A ahh...


End file.
